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This didn’t sit well with the woman, for her smile vanished. “Better show some respect to your Auntie Scarlett,” she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I’ve known your family for a long time. I know where all the bodies are buried. And if I wanted to, I could spill all your dirty little secrets on my vlog.”

“Oh, just go away, Scarlett,” said Odelia, and walked off, joining her grandmother who’d taken a stool at the bar.

“The nerve of that woman,” Gran grumbled.

“You know she’s just doing this to get a rise out of you, don’t you?” said Odelia, as she held up her hand to attract the bartender’s attention. She ordered a cup of chamomile tea for her grandmother, hoping it would calm her down, and a Diet Coke for herself.

“I know that,” said Gran. “Of course I know that. But the woman is pure evil. I just can’t let her get away with it.”

“And you do know that the person who runs Google isn’t called Mr. Google, right?”

This seemed to surprise Gran.“Google isn’t named after its owner?”

“No, it’s not, just like Instagram isn’t named after its owner, or Facebook.”

“Well, I knew Amazon wasn’t named after Jeff Bezos,” Gran conceded. “I just figured Mr. Google had started his search engine from his garage, just like Bill Microsoft and that nice young Steve Apple.”

“It’s Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, and there is no Mr. Google.”

“Too bad,” said Gran, slumping in her chair.

It was those ecstasy pills, Odelia knew. First they lifted you up to the highest heights, then slammed you down into the lowest lows. And now Gran was experiencing those lows very keenly, especially after discovering that Scarlett had plagiarized her precious vlog.

From the corner of her eye, Odelia saw Max and Dooley sneaking across the terrace, in search of pets to talk to. She smiled. At least they might yield some results. So far she had nothing to show for her work. Just then, Prunella joined them at the bar, accompanied by a handsome man in his fifties, sporting a full head of white hair.

“Miss Poole, Mrs. Muffin,” said Prunella, “this is my husband Charlie. Charlie, these are the detectives Fae Pott hired to clear her father’s name.” She turned to Odelia. “I remembered something just now. The person who really has it in for Jeb is Fitz Priestley. And you’ll find that he lives next to where Jeb is staying.” She gestured with her head to a man seated three tables away, holding court to a captive audience of young men and women. “If you want to ask him a few questions, he’s right there.” She nudged her husband.

“Right,” he muttered, then plastered an appealing smile on his bronzed face. He clearly had been spending a lot of time in the Hamptons, even though his accent revealed he was an Englishman through and through. “While Jeb Pott was busy butchering his ex-wife, Prunella was next to me, fast asleep in bed. So even though she might have wanted to frame Jeb for murder by taking a big old whack at his ex, she didn’t, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, Charlie, please don’t be so crass.”

“What did I say?”

“These people believe Jeb is innocent.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.“They do? How quaint.”

“Yes, it is,” said Prunella, “but there you have it.”

“Jeb is a raving lunatic and a deeply unpleasant human being,” said Charlie, turning serious. “This murder business? It was only a matter of time before the man snapped and turned homicidal. I’m glad he’s in prison right now, exactly where the little turd belongs.”

“You really think Jeb is capable of murder?”

“Of course. With the mountains of coke the freak snorted, and who knows what stuff he injected into his veins, it doesn’t surprise me he turned completely whacko at some point. There’s only so much the human body can take before it goes completely haywire.”

“Charlie is a doctor,” said Prunella with an affectionate smile. “He’s the one who warned me not to hire Jeb for my project, but of course I wouldn’t listen.”

“I knew the movie was sunk the moment we had our first meeting with Jeb and the director,” said Charlie, who’d hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat.

“I’d asked Charlie to be present at the meeting,” Prunella explained. “For moral support. It was my first big Hollywood project and I was incredibly nervous, you see.”

“One look at Jeb and I knew he was a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off,” Charlie said. “The shifty eyes, the affectated speech, those weird mannerisms. I could tell the man was an addict. And drug addicts don’t make for the most stable people to work with.”

“Such a pity,” Prunella murmured. “He was so handsome and so talented as a young man. And look at him now…”

She moved away, followed by her husband, and Odelia saw that Gran had slumped even more on her barstool and was practically falling down from the thing.

“Here, drink your tea,” she said, pushing the cup in front of her.

“I don’t wanna,” Gran muttered, resting her head on her arms on top of the bar.

“Drink your tea while I go talk to Fitz Priestley,” she ordered.